For a Definition of Us
by writerdragonfly
Summary: "Is that what it took? Me getting shot for a definition of us?" After being shot, Steve and Danny come to some loud and public realizations of what they want to be. McDanno.


It wasn't like he wanted to constantly be in these situations, facing down mortal peril with a gun and a handful of bullets. Which, okay, he had more than that, but it wasn't the point. His job held a greater amount of danger now than it had when he was a detective in Newark, he was at one end of a gun fight far more often than he ever had been, and he wasn't even completely sure how the entire thing had transpired.

Which was how he felt about a lot of things where Steve McGarrett was concerned.

But he liked it here. Oh, he still hated all the sand and what they did to pizza and a bevy of other things, but the more time he spent in Hawaii, with Grace, with Steve, and Kono and Chin and the rest of his ohana here, the more he liked it.

The more he loved it.

Grace was a big part of that. It was impossible to hate something that she so obviously adored more and more as time passed.

And Steve was almost as big a part of that as she was, even with his constant propensity for finding trouble in nearly everything they did, especially when there was a case involved.

So no, he didn't constantly want to be in these situations, hidden back behind a row of crates that would not hold up to any more bullets, reloading his gun and praying for a good shot.

But if he had to be, there was no one's side he'd rather be at than Steve's.

Though, to be honest, if he had to be at anyone's side for anything, he'd rather be at Steve's.

It wasn't just because it was easy to feel safe around Steve (which in and of itself was kind of ironic and hilarious), though that was certainly a factor. But Steve had this strange ability to just _understand_ Danny, in a way that no one ever had before. Which wasn't to say that they didn't fight-because they did. Often, and loudly. But no matter how pissed he was with Steve and no matter how pissed Steve was with him, he knew they'd both do whatever it took to have each other's backs.

And that meant a lot.

It meant a lot more than either of them were ready to publicly admit.

It meant _something_ instead of something.

" _Fuck_ ," Danny heard the hiss leave Steve's mouth a half second before it echoed through his earpiece and he immediately zeroed in on him instead of the psychos shooting at them.

"You hit?" Danny whispered, ducking behind a forklift as he made his way over. There was the sharp twang of bullet on metal as it narrowly missed him and ricocheted off the machinery.

"I'm fine, just nicked me," Steve answered, ignoring the tear across his sleeve that revealed a sluggishly bleeding wound beneath. It didn't look bad, but Danny wasn't a doctor and neither was Steve.

"You're getting that looked at when we're out of here." Steve just nodded in reply, though Danny had no doubt he'd try to argue his way out of it then.

And then they were back to shooting, back to playing chicken with armed gunmen who were determined to not get arrested.

The usual.

 _The usual_. He had a usual. Watch his boy- _Steve_ -get shot and continue the fight, just like that.

It shouldn't be that easy. This part shouldn't be that easy. He _hated_ when Steve got hurt, but he could keep going like nothing was wrong until it was time to break down, until he _could_ break down.

If he didn't love the idiot so much, he doubted he ever would have lasted this long as his partner.

If he didn't love him.

It wasn't that loving Steve was a revelation. He'd known that for a long time. At first it had been a quiet thing, something he'd never had the intention of acting on. Why rock the boat? He could love someone and not be with them, he was strong enough. But it didn't stay that way. It grew and grew with every beer and conversation and teasing phone call and rambling argument and before he knew it he couldn't _imagine_ life without Steve McGarrett a permanent part of it. He could handle the teasing and the danger if it meant having Steve _there_. And he did.

He doesn't remember what had happened to change things, the details of the moments before fuzzy in his mind. But he remembered the moment it happened with the same unerring clarity he recalled all of Grace's big life moments.

They were arguing and then there was a long moment that hung in the air like palpable tension of them- _both of them_ -staring at each other's mouths and then they were kissing.

Danny didn't know how to define what they were. They were together, certainly, and had made the decision to keep it quiet between them after that first night and both kept to that. But beyond that, they hadn't discussed the specifics.

He wasn't sure who had been more hesitant to go farther than that, him or Steve. But it was a decision they'd both made and both kept to.

And still now, even months later, they were okay with that.

Right?

There was a faint bumping sound and Danny turned towards it, reacting to the sight without even thinking further. He was quick on his feet, rushing to tackle Steve onto the concrete floor beneath him and out of the way of the gun at his back.

He managed to pull a shot at the lone gunman behind them within the first few seconds of crashing to the ground on top of Steve before the sudden rush of intense pain and warmth washed over him.

"Danny!" Steve's voice felt like an echo in his head, but he couldn't find the words to respond. His neck hurt, and he couldn't keep his gun steady enough to make sure the gunman was down.

He felt the callouses of Steve's fingers pressing against his neck, felt his breath on his skin, could imagine hearing the beat of his heart if Steve were any closer.

Everything else was silent, still.

"Fuck, how bad is it?" Danny managed to churn out, trying to ignore the taste of blood on his tongue. Had he bitten it or was it something worse?

"It's... You're going to be fine, Danno. Just fine," Steve lied, and Danny was afraid.

"Steve, you remember what I asked when I told you about my partner Grace?"

"Shut up. You're going to be fine, you're not going to die."

"I don't _want_ to-"

"I'm not going to let you die, Danno. Now shut up," Steve demanded. Danny didn't know what he was doing, only that it hurt and he was scared.

But not scared to die.

It wasn't as if he wanted to, far from it. He wanted to be there to watch Grace grow, to stand with her at graduation and walk her down the aisle and spoil her children, and all that life entailed. He wanted to solve cases and protect people and unwind with a bottle of beer and a steak or take-out and just _be_ with Steve and their friends.

He wanted to _marry_ Steve in whatever way he could. He wanted to shout it from the fucking rooftops of every rooftop on the island, write it in the sand on every beach, post it in the sky if he could afford it.

And he was scared he wouldn't ever get that chance.

"Boss, the medic's right behind me. You miss any of the bastards?" Kono's voice was like a song in his ears, but Danny did not hear Steve's response. His focus was drifting too much and he was... so... afraid.

This wasn't the end. Danny refused to let it be the end. He was terrified that it wouldn't be his choice, that his body would fail him here and now and Steve would mourn him and Grace would mourn him and the rest of their family would fall apart too.

He didn't want Steve to go back to the guy he was when they first met. That hard and reckless man who threw his body around like it was less important than anyone else, like his sacrifice would be a noble thing that no one would miss.

Surely he would if he lost Danny. That's what this all meant, wasn't it? The fear, the reason they refused to acknowledge and put words to what they were? Because maybe if it wasn't out there, it wasn't real. It wouldn't hurt if ( _when_ ) it all fell to pieces.

Things got fuzzy after that, for awhile.

Steve rode with him to the hospital, a silent guard who kept his hand tightly fisted in Danny's own, though Danny could scarcely remember when that had happened. Chin and Kono probably staying behind to finish securing the scene, but even that might not be true. He didn't know, hadn't paid attention.

Danny didn't remember much after that until he woke from the surgery without any concept of how much time had passed in the interim. A nurse let Steve in a few minutes later, and Steve _did not speak._

He just sat there at his bedside in silence.

Danny noticed the pink tinged bandage on his arm, the splatter of blood across his arms and chest and shirt and skin save where his vest had been, and the red around his eyes.

"How bad was it?" Danny managed to ask through a mouth full of cotton.

"Bad. Better than it looked to the paramedics, but it was... bad." Steve forced out, decidedly not looking at Danny while he said it.

"Rachel is bringing Grace back early. Should be here to see you tomorrow morning," he continued after a moment. Danny rasped out a thank you.

Steve didn't seem to want to speak after that. Danny didn't really want to suffer through more attempts at it anyway.

The nurse came in to adjust his meds, and then he was out again.

The aching silence with Steve when he was awake lasted until he came in with Grace at his side. Steve helped Danny make what had happened seem like it wasn't as close as it had been, reassured her and assuaged her fears when Danny couldn't manage the words anymore.

And once Grace was gone, the silence returned as heavy and oppressive as it had been. It was easier when the nurses bustled in, when Chin and Kono and Kamekona and Grover (and even at one point, the governor) stopped in for a bit to check on him. If any of them picked up on it, they didn't say anything.

The doctor talked to him about how lucky he was, about how it was mostly a surface wound but it bled heavily and how he'd also managed a bloody nose which had made it look worse, made the blood loss more dangerous. He talked to him about taking it easy, about coming in for check ups often over the coming weeks to make sure everything kept healing properly.

About how a few centimeters over and he could have died instantly, or bled out, or been permanently injured.

Steve paid attention to the doctor's every word, but said nothing to Danny when he was gone.

Danny signed his release two days after he was admitted, let Kamekona help him into the passenger seat of his own car, and pretended that Steve's silence wasn't more painful than the bullet.

Steve drove him to the pharmacy in that same _silence_ and parked the car and walked around to let him out.

And Danny was so _tired_ of it. Was Steve trying to act like they weren't _something_ before this?

"Steve-"

"Why did you do that?" Steve suddenly snapped out, his voice loud in the relative quiet of the pharmacy.

"Why did I- _what?_ Did you think I got shot on purpose?!" Danny yelled back just as loud.

"You would have been fine if you hadn't tackled me and you know it!"

"And you would have been _dead_ you moron! You think I was going to just stand there and watch him blow your head off?!"

"Better than you dying! You really want to leave Grace like that?"

"Don't you fucking dare bring my daughter into this, McGarrett. This isn't about her and you know it!"

"How does you almost dying not have anything to do with her?"

"Because this conversation isn't about that! This conversation is you being pissed that I saved your ass at the risk of my own life, very nearly permanently! Because you don't want to pick where you're supposed to stand when something like that happens, as my fucking partner or as my boyfriend!"

"What? You think- _damn it._ You almost _died_ , Danny! You almost died and it would have been my _fault."_

"Shut up! It wouldn't have been your fault, you big idiot! The psycho with the gun maybe. _My fault_ maybe. But not yours. It would have been worth it, because _you_ are worth it! You think I just come to work everyday and pick and choose when I'm going to have your back no matter what? No, I don't. I'm _always_ going to have your back, Steve."

"It was not your-"

"No, it wasn't, and it wasn't yours! I chose to follow you into that warehouse just like I've chosen to follow you every other place since the day we met, you stupid bastard. When are you going to get it through your head that I'm never going to leave you?!"

"Danno! _Fuck_. Just, marry me!" Steve blurted out, just as loud as the rest of it and Danny felt dizzy from the force of emotion suddenly bombarding his chest (or maybe he needed a pain pill, what the hell did it matter anyway?)

"Oh thank god," Danny answered, fisting a hand in Steve's shirt and pulling him down for a hard kiss. His neck killed and he was still dizzy but it was worth every second.

"Oh my god, that was the hottest and angriest proposal I've ever seen in my entire fucking life," a female voice interrupted, and Danny and Steve both pulled back quickly albeit reluctantly.

The pharmacy was decidedly _not_ empty. In fact, Danny wasn't sure he'd ever seen it this busy before. Not that anyone was looking at anything other than _Steve and Danny._

Including the redhead in her early twenties _filming them with her cell phone._

And then everyone was clapping, a handful of wolf whistles in between.

Danny had to be dreaming, This was not real. Right?

He cleared his throat, staring at the floor for a few seconds.

"We're here to pick up a few scripts for Daniel Williams," he said to the closest pharmacist, completely ignoring the pick up and drop off signs posted.

The pharmacist stopped _staring_ and immediately went to find them.

"I'm sorry," Steve said softly a beat later, as the chaos of the store began to disperse.

"Don't worry about it, SuperSEAL. You're totally forgiven. But you're going to be a good fiancé and pay for my prescriptions while I sit in the car and pretend I'm not going to be trending on Youtube in twenty minutes."


End file.
